


Our Mutual Friend

by zoeburchard



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boris has a different job..., Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Never met in vegas, Non-Consensual, Song fic, but not gay for Theo, gay andy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeburchard/pseuds/zoeburchard
Summary: Andy needs a night out at the club to find himself a man where Theo accidentally meets a mysterious man that catches his eye. Boris is handsome and charming but Theo never thought he was gay and there's something strange about this mysterious man that he can't quite put his finger on. This is a song fic based on the song Our Mutual Friend by The Divine Comedy.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Every story I write is a song fic. This is who I am. The song is Our Mutual Friend by The Divine Comedy. Dialogue is taken from the song which is written like a story itself. If you listen to the song you'll know how the story ends. :O but also, it's a really good song. 
> 
> In this story, Boris and Theo never met, Theo never left New York. 
> 
> Enjoy! And thank you for reading!

The dots on the ceiling were swirling in patterns that only seemed to draw his face. Dark and inviting eyes, full red lips, a smile that could knock a man dead on the spot and those jet black curls that made Theo’s breath catch in his throat. He had been laying in bed staring at the ceiling for hours thinking of the whirlwind night it had been and how he’d never be the same again.

Andy wasn’t much for going out, but something on this specific night was drawing him out- out of the house, out of his comfort zone and that thing drawing him out was Theo. Andy had long since been out of the closet, but had always been nervous to go out to bars or adventure beyond his Park Avenue circle. Consequently he never met any men he could relate to in any way. It was Theo’s idea to get out of Park Avenue and venture down to a gay bar in the west village. Theo, of course, wasn’t gay, but he tried his best to be a good friend and thought the least he could do was be a good wing man for his best friend.

“I can’t do this, Theo,” Andy grabbed his arm in the middle of the sidewalk, a look of terror on his face. “I can’t. Let’s go back.”

Theo adjusted his round glasses and smiled softly. Placing his hand gently on Andy’s he said, “It’s alright, Andy. You can do this. Let’s stop in here real quick for a drink and then we’ll go. No need to rush- it’s still early.” Andy seemed to relax at the suggestion of a drink. All he needed was a little courage, that would settle it. “You’re going to meet someone tonight, I know it.”

Snow began to fall around them. Theo looked up at the sky as he opened the door to the pub for Andy to pass through. A rush of warmth shot up his chest and suddenly he felt outside of his body as his footsteps became inaudible and his body moved him inside the pub. Suddenly uncomfortable, he shrugged off the strange feeling and ushered Andy to the bar.

“Hello there, boys. Are you two old enough to be in here?” This happened whenever they tried to drink anywhere, especially together. Andy never grew out of his youthful appearance and despite dressing more sophisticated than most other adult men, Theo had an innocent sense of youth about I’m that always made people think of him as a child.

Both men dutifully showed their ID’s and ordered they a screwdriver for Andy and a bottle of Tolstyak for Theo. Taking seats at the bar they turned towards each other to bump glasses. “Cheers!” Theo took a drink of the strong lager, eyes scanning the space, taking note of the different people drinking and chatting.

“I feel like the chance of me actually meeting anyone I even remotely get on with is next to zero. I mean, come on Theo, I can barely even make _friends_. Besides you, I only have really a few people I would even consider real friends. I suppose I _am_ an acquired taste.” Andy looked at Theo who seemed off in another world, looking not at Andy, but over his shoulder, bottle brought up near his lips, but not drinking. “Theo?”

Andy turned around to see what Theo might be looking at. There was nothing unusual, just a group of guys taking vodka shots in the corner. The pub was pretty empty and there really wasn’t much going on. “Theo?” He waved his hand in front of Theo’s face to try and get his attention.

But Theo had been transported, maybe to a past life, maybe to the next. Something had happened inside and across the room, as if something beyond himself was pulling his attention, his eyes had locked with another. The heat in his chest returned. A group of men were gathered around a table, all well dressed in dark clothing, drinking and laughing, taking shots. Theo only saw one man. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t understand what was so special about this man, why he felt like he knew him or why he was so incapable of turning away. He had a mess of dark curly hair that, while it was wild, seemed intentionally so. There was a playfulness in his eyes and a mischievous turn to his lips. The man across the room raised his glass towards Theo, and before he drank, Theo swore he winked.

Theo felt his face turn red as another man slipped his arm around the waist of this mysterious man. He whispered something in his ear and Theo imagined what the black hair would feel like tickling his lips. He laughed. It was a loud and animated laugh that Theo could hear across the bar and he didn’t want it to stop, but the other man pulled the object of his gaze away towards the bathrooms where they both disappeared.

And then a hand waved in front of his face, a voice calling his name. He was back on the bar stool facing Andy, who was looking quite perplexed. “What was that, Theo? You were _gone.”_ Andy seemed genuinely concerned but Theo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what had happened.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

The two friends talked and drank as people shuffled in and out of the quiet pub. Theo assuring Andy he would meet someone and Andy slowly becoming more open to the idea as the alcohol encouraged him. They were both a few drinks in when it happened. The group of men from the back of the bar all began to move towards the door. At first, Theo paid no mind to the group, maybe ten or so, collecting their things and brushing past him and Andy. Suddenly Theo was lost once again as he caught a glimpse of the man, curly hair somehow messier than before— whose self assuredness made him seem taller than he was— gathering his coat around his shoulders, downing one last shot and moving towards the door. _He’s got to be totally plastered by now._ But he walked with steady feet right up until he was next to Theo and Andy. He stumbled slightly, falling into Theo, who reached up and caught the man’s shoulder. Turning his head towards Theo, their eyes met one last time, their faces only a few inches apart. Being so close, Theo noticed how swollen and red his lips were and wondered if they were always so inviting. In a quiet tone, clearly meant for Theo’s ears alone he whispered, “Pardon me,” he smiled wide, “Harry Potter.” His breath smelled of vodka, but his body had a pleasant muskiness. Instinctively Theo touched his glasses with the hand that wasn’t gripping another man’s shoulder for dear life.

It was only after he left that Theo even registered that the mysterious man had a very strange Russian-esque accent that he couldn’t quite place. It was all the more alluring and Theo could feel his face turning red once again as he turned to watch the man leave, completely oblivious to Andy staring at him in disbelief.

“What the fuck was that!?” Theo looked at Andy, who had begun to slur his words a little, then back to his bottle of beer.

“What do you mean? The guy just bumped into me. It was nothing.” Theo’s voice was unsteady and unconvincing.

Andy wasn’t buying it. “Do you know that guy or something? Come on, Theo. You could cut that sexual tension with a knife.” Theo’s eyes snapped up to Andy’s with a warning look.

“Ridiculous. He was drunk and got a little too close. Shut the fuck up about it and drink, we’ve got a night club to get to.” Andy mumbled something about a stick being up Theo’s ass but did as he was told.

-

“Shit. There’s a line.” It was hard enough to convince Andy to stop watching anime long enough to get his ass out of the house, but now they had to stand outside in the cold snow to get into this place? Theo wasn’t about it. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He walked down the long line of people to the front door. The bouncer was a large man but he looked like he would be friendly enough.

“End of the line,” a big hand pointed back to where Theo had come from.

“I understand, but my friend, you see—“

“Theo!”

Theo turned to find the voice that had called his name. A man slightly older than him in a ragged collared shirt smoking a cigarette popped out from behind the bouncer, a bright purple stamp visible on his wrist. “Jerome? What are you doing here?” Jerome was sort of a friend of a friend who had provided Theo with certain substances throughout college to get through his classes.

“I could ask the same of you! You trying to get into this joint?” Jerome raised an eyebrow at Theo and the younger man’s blush would have been apparent on his cheeks once again had it not be quite so cold.

Waving his hands frantically in front of him, “No!” He said quickly and defensively, pointing down the line, “Well, yes. My friend. I’m trying to get him out to meet some people. He’s a bit— shy, I guess? Needed some moral support.” Nervously he adjusted his glasses again.

Jerome was not as bothered as Theo and smiled, “Well come on then. I’ll get you in. Introduce you both to some friends of mine.” Jerome waved to Andy who had been keeping his eye on Theo for any sign of what to do. “What is your friend’s name?”

“Andy.”

“Andy! Come here!” He shouted down the line. Andy looked around hesitantly then shuffled quickly up to the pair. Jerome wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said with a smile, “Tonight we’re gonna get you fucked, my friend!” He turned to the bouncer, “These are my friends, Andy and Theo.”

“Wrists,” he instructed in a deadpan tone.

Theo and Andy held out their wrists to get stamped and they all walked in together, Jerome mumbling to Andy about all the sexy men he’d be meeting soon.

The lights were strobing, the music was blaring, the drinks were watered down and the place was filled to the brim with testosterone. Rainbow flags and banners hung from the ceiling. Jerome guided the pair of friends to a table away from the speakers where you could almost hear your own thoughts. “Theo, Andy- meet my friends!” He began to point around the table of men drinking, introducing each of them. Theo only heard one name because there he was again. The man with the bewitching smile and hair he could die in. “And this is Boris.” Boris extended a hand, very pointedly, towards Theo who took it timidly to shake.

“Hi, I’m Theo,” he wasn’t sure his introduction came out louder than a whisper.

“You are Potter, we met earlier!” Theo shot a half assed look of annoyance at the strange man. “You remember?” He grinned as if to spark Theo’s memory.

Theo only nodded and remembered suddenly that he was here with Andy. He looked around but couldn’t seem to find his friend.

“Potter, you are looking for your small friend?” He gestured with his head towards another tablewhere Andy sat with a blue haired man, deep in conversation.

Theo was shocked. He in no way expected Andy to talk to someone without encouragement from him. He was pleasantly surprised. Knowing Andy had found someone, who looked well suited to at least entertain Andy for a while, he turned his attention back to Boris.

Boris stepped a little closer and it seemed as though the world had melted away and everyone else had disappeared. “Music is a little loud, no? Can barely hear my own voice.”

Theo adjusted his glasses and looked slightly down to meet Boris’ eyes, “We are in a night club though.”

Boris grinned cheekily, “What? Cannot hear you. Speak louder!” He yelled dramatically, laughing at Theo trying to hide a smile.

It was then, as he tried not to laugh at Boris’ stupid bit that he noticed the tight fitting black button down, unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest, bare skin showing underneath. Sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, his arms that seemed strong and lean. Theo had never really looked at men. Sure, he had seen men throughout his life in various states of dress and undress, but he had never really _looked._ Not until tonight. With Boris, it was impossible not to.

“You like to stare, eh, Potter?” Boris leaned up against the booth seat, one leg crossed over the other loosely, arms crossed low over his chest. Theo’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck no! I’m here for my friend. Moral support.” He felt the need to clarify, looking back towards Andy. “I’m just drunk.” Theo was not drunk. He knew this, Boris knew this, the youthful twinks on the dance floor and the bears at the bar watching them knew this. _When had I gotten so close to Boris?_

They stood so close their arms were touching. It was a certain kind of electricity Theo thought he could never get used to. “I think no, but let’s get you drink and we’ll see what happens when you _are_ drunk.”

“I’m not, you know, gay,” Theo said as quietly as he could while still being audible over the music. His hand found its way to the back of his head where he tugged at his hair anxiously.

Boris let out a loud laugh and slapped Theo on the back, “Sure!” Then flagged down a shirtless blonde about a bottle of vodka.

-

They shouted over the music to one another, talking about everything from philosophy to music to history to Theo’s job and the places Boris had traveled. They talked of books, priceless antiques, of art. When one spoke, the other listened, at the edge of their seat. In a matter of only a few hours they felt like they had known each other for lifetimes.

The alcohol had really helped Theo open up. He had no idea how much he had consumed as his glass never seemed to empty. The room spun, but it could have just been Boris’ intoxicating presence.

An angry looking man with long brown hair appeared at the table. Boris shot him a quick look of frustration, to which the man leaned over the table. “Hello boys.” He nodded specifically to Theo’s new companion, “Boris. Are we having _fun_?”

Boris stood up quickly and grabbed the man by the arm, “Have drink, Potter, will be back shortly.” Dragging the man away, Theo turned to watch them disappear. He thought they were arguing but even his glasses didn’t help him see. The bottle of vodka Boris had procured was nearly half empty. He couldn’t tell if he had consumed more or Boris.

Theo looked around to find Andy cuddled up close with his blue haired friend, both of them looking at his phone. Smiling to himself, he was glad Andy was able to connect with someone that seemed to have something in common with him. He had been alone his whole life, isolated from others, from his family. His few friends loved him, but even Theo didn’t have that much in common with him. It was a relief to see him looking happy for once.

Around fifteen minutes later Boris reappeared, smoothing down his shirt and running his hands through his curls. He leaned over the booth where Theo sat, lips lightly touching Theo’s ear as he spoke, fresh minty breath wafting under Theo’s nose, “Let’s get out of here.” And in that moment, completely forgetting about Andy, Theo would have done anything Boris had asked. Boris grabbed his hand and quickly led him towards the door. On the way out, the angry man from earlier, looking much more relaxed, shook Boris’ hand which Boris then immediately shoved deep in his coat pocket as he and Theo pushed through the front door out onto the snowy sidewalk.

A huge stretch hummer waited outside. “Here is car! Get in, Potter!” Theo looked around confused. Boris arched an eyebrow and laughed at his new friend. “Potter, the car! Let’s go.”

He pushed Theo by the shoulders into the backseat of the hummer with merriment. “Holy shit, Boris! What is this?” Theo’s eyes went wide as he stumbled into the vehicle, filled with all kinds of people engaged in a truly bacchanalian affair. “Is this yours!? This car? Do you always have a stretch whatever the mother fuck waiting for you?”

Sliding in behind Theo, they sat in the only space available between a couple of guys making out and a woman snorting coke. Their legs pressed up against each other and Boris flung his arm around Theo’s shoulders— to conserve space. “Is not mine, belongs to Jerome.” He gestured to the group in the car, “We only use for special occasion.”

Theo unconsciously leaned into Boris, getting closer to hear what he was saying over the noise of the music in the car, the loud chatter and sounds as the car drove fast through the city out into the night. “What- what is the occasion?” He asked confused as to what they were celebrating.

Someone shoved a bottle of champagne in Boris’s hands. A devilish look in his eyes, he shook the bottle for a brief moment before popping the top and spraying bubbles all over everyone in the car. “Is Katya’s 21st birthday!” He raised the bottle in the air, “To Katya!” Everyone shouted back _To Katya!_ laughter erupting all throughout the car. Boris took a swig of champagne straight from the bottle then held it up to Theo’s lips for him to drink as well. The bottle got passed all around the car, everyone getting just a bit more drunk than they already were.

The car stopped in front of a huge mansion. Once again, Theo was amazed at what he was seeing. It was one crazy thing after another. “What is it you do again?” He only realized after asking he hadn’t bothered to ask in all their conversing. The stories Boris told, the life he professed to live was far more interesting than any one job could possibly be.

Boris shrugged as he stood next to Theo looking up at the massive building before them. “Eh, this and that.” He studied Theo’s face as he took in his surroundings and smiled softly to himself.

Completely in rapture at how beautifully decorated the house was, at how Hobie would go crazy for all the rare and intricate pieces of furniture, Theo had no idea where he was when Boris finally pulled him into a quiet room away from all the noise of the party. He let Boris lead him to a settee he would have been able to give a complete history of had he not been quite so drunk. “Potter,” there was something sad in his eyes but Theo couldn’t remember the words to ask if he was alright. Then Boris’ hand was on his thigh and a fire lit in his chest that had never burned so bright. “I really like you, Theo.”

The world must have stopped rotating while his universe spun in hyper speed. He was keenly aware of Boris’ eyes on him and he looked up to the ceiling trying to remember how to form sentences. “Cool.” This was the least cool thing he could possibly say, but Boris’ lips curled up just a little and he knew he hadn’t totally fucked up. His hand, without his permission, rested atop Boris’ on his thigh. He turned his eyes to Boris. “The feeling’s mutual.” Theo didn’t even understand what it was until he had said it. He didn’t get that all the electricity throughout their evening together had been a powerful connection that the bonds of time and life itself couldn’t break. It’s what he had felt outside the pub, it’s what he knew when their eyes first met. He felt inexplicably tied to this man before him, this man he had known for the better of 3 hours.

Boris turned his hand over to hold Theo’s as he drug him off the settee and over to an old record player. “You like Beatles, yes?” Theo nodded looking down at where their hands were clasped together. He had never felt anything like this for a man before and he didn’t understand but his hazy brain kept trying to put the pieces together to make sense of what was happening. Can someone really fall in love quite so fast?

_Something_ began to play and Boris wrapped his free arm around Theo’s waist pulling him close as he began to sway with the music. Theo’s breath caught in his throat at the additional contact and the sudden closeness of their faces, noses nearly touching as Boris looked intensely into Theo’s eyes. Slowly, as if touching him would break him, Theo let his arm curl around Boris’ neck, hand finding its way into his dark curls, gently pushing their foreheads together.

They stayed like that, dancing together intimately as the song played through.

“It’s like the soundtrack to our lives.”

“True, is not unusual. Beatles music very relatable. Well loved across languages and nations and—“ Theo was touching Boris’ cheek lightly, running his thumb across the sharp, beautiful jawline, up to his soft red lips, parted slightly still from speaking.

“Boris.”

“Potter?”

“I can’t dance.” As if on cue, Theo tripped over his own feet and the pair tumbled down, laughing on the floor, half lying on top of each other.

When the laughter had died down and the realization of where they were had set in, Theo sat up quickly, nervous, if not a little uncomfortable. He was so out of his element, mind heavy, and heart being pulled in ways it had never been pulled before. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes as Boris sat up on his knees beside him. The song had changed.

“ _Oh darling, please believe me_

_I’ll never do you no harm_

_Believe me when I tell you_

_I’ll never do you no harm”_

Theo turned his head to look at his strange and very drunk friend singing, eyes closed and swaying in place. He couldn’t help it. There was something so perfect about the way his chin lifted up when he sang, the way his hands danced across his own thighs, and his slightly tone deaf voice ringing through Theo’s ears.

“Oh Darling! If you leave me! I’ll never make it alone!” Theo joined in and together they sang loudly from their place on the floor rocking about enjoying the music and their own terrible renditions of the song.

As the song came to an end the two men found themselves leaning up along the back of the settee, faces turned towards each other, Boris on his knees, Theo relaxed with his legs outstretched. In that moment, as he looked at Boris’ drunken face, his sharp features and feather soft messy hair he knew his life was over. Everything he had known about himself was a lie and from this point forward he would be reborn, a new man from the one he had been earlier that day.

It was Theo that leaned in and kissed Boris on the mouth. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t fast- it was the only thing in the whole world that moved in that very moment, their lips together, hands desperately grasping at the other, and Boris swung a leg over Theo’s, sitting on his thighs, gripping his face, pulling him closer, closer as if he might fall into a void and be lost to him forever if another moment passed where they weren’t skin tight together.

Theo set to unbuttoning Boris shirt as Boris kissed his neck. He slid his hands across the white expanse of his chest, touching every inch of him, as his hands made their way to his back where he could press Boris’ torso into his own. Skin tight.

The next thing Theo knew, light was pouring in through the curtains onto a bed Theo didn’t remember getting into. His head was pounding- he hadn’t drank that heavily in months, perhaps ever. Details began to come back to him as he rubbed his temple. Black curls, dark eyes.

There was a glass of water and aspirin he readily accepted on the nightstand. As he brought the cold glass to his lips he remembered a hand on his face and lips caught between teeth. He looked around for a sign of the man who was starting to resurface in his memory. The bed beside him was empty, cold. He noticed his own clothes folded neatly on a chair by the nightstand.

Groggy, he slid out from under the covers and pulled on his shorts, taking in his surroundings. The room was large and lavish. Furniture that was centuries old paired with newer modern pieces by acclaimed designers. _Did Boris live here?_

He wandered around the room touching various books and sculptures thoughtfully placed. Cracking the door open he stepped out into the dark hallway to find the restroom. There was a light on a few doors down and a sinking feeling in Theo’s gut. His legs carried him forward. The walls were spinning and his headache hadn’t yet subsided. Quiet voices trailed out into the hall.

_When you don’t charge, you steal from ME. You know what happens when you steal from me?_

Theo moved forward silently. The door was open just enough for Theo to peek in. He nearly fell back on the floor as he saw Boris sitting naked on the edge of a cabinet, Jerome naked in front of him, pounding into him over and over, with Boris legs wrapped around his torso.

_I take what’s mine._

His mind told him to leave but he just stared at Boris whose head was tilted back, hair sweaty, body glistening. In a moment Theo still wasn’t sure was real, Boris turned his head toward Theo, a pained look in his eye as a tear slowly fell and the Ukrainian man he still couldn’t help but feel fundamentally connected to mouthed the word _go._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I had no intention of writing a second chapter and now it looks like I'm going to have to write a third. I read every fanfic for Boris and Theo on this website that's in English. When I ran out of stories to read I revisited this one and decided it needed a more satisfying ending.  
> In this story I'm imagining Theo to be more or less asexual with a sort of exclusive attraction to Boris. I don't know how accurate that is and I apologize if it's weird or vastly incorrect.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> Tumblr: @zebonifer  
> Instagram: @zoeellendraws

“What the fuck happened to you last night?”

As Theo paced about his room in Hobie’s flat he could only stutter into the phone, unable to find words to describe the answer to that question. He hardly knew himself, there was no way he could articulate it. “I— I don’t know, Andy.” He paused as Andy went on and on about him disappearing.

Sitting down on the bed, he massaged his temples. His head ached something terrible. While he regularly drank, he didn’t regularly drink quite so much, and not typically vodka. He removed his glasses, setting them on the bed beside him, and rubbed his eyes. Then it occurred to him to ask- “How did things go with you? You were getting cozy with that blue haired guy last time I saw you.” Theo was genuinely curious, after all, that had been the purpose of their outing in the first place.

Andy chuckled- a quiet but pleasant sounding laugh that always seemed a touch pretentious. “Oh yeah, Jacob. He was nice. Told me about a whole group of gay guys that are all into anime. He invited me to watch Elfin Lied this weekend with them.”

Andy sounded as excited as Andy probably could sound and Theo was genuinely happy for him. “Shit! That’s great, Andy,” but Theo couldn’t pry his mind off of his own misadventures from the previous night enough to really focus on what Andy was continuing to say. He found himself trying so hard to analyze what had taken place, why he couldn’t get Boris out of his mind. However, thinking of Boris just left him with the gut wrenching image of his sinewy body, sweaty and wrapped around another man. Fire rose in his cheeks and he found himself gripping the phone harder than was necessary.

“Theo!” Head jerking up, eyes alert he was snapped from his thoughts by Andy’s droll voice on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

Theo shook his head, instinctively moving to touch his glasses that were no longer perched on his nose. “Yeah, sorry, Andy. I— I have to go.” With that he hung up the phone before Andy could reply only to receive, seconds later, a text vibrating the electronic paper weight.

**WTF?**

Theo flipped his phone over, ignoring the notification and flopped down on his bed, eyes back to the ceiling where he had spent the hours of the early morning envisioning Boris’ dark eyes looking into his, telling all his secrets. Only, Theo hardly knew anything about the man he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Boris. Apart from Pippa, who he had long since admitted was a childish infatuation brought on by trauma (thanks, therapy), Theo hardly ever felt attracted to anyone sexually or emotionally. He had been infatuated with Pippa for so long he never really looked and even after that never found much interest in sex or relationships. Once in a while he’d hook up with a girl but it never meant anything and he never wanted to do it twice. It was more of an animalistic need for release than any real desire. But in just one night Boris had turned his whole perception of his own sexuality on its head. Everything he had known about himself disintegrated before him. He had felt something real with Boris and now all he knew was that he needed to talk to the mysterious, beautiful man he had somehow fallen for.

Feeling around the blankets he found his glasses, sliding them back in front of his eyes, and his phone, holding it over his head blocking his view of the ceiling. The first thing he saw was a text from Andy- **what is going on with you?**

He ignored it.

 _Photos-_ the last image in his reel was from 2 days ago. It was a photo of his dog Popper sleeping on a sleeping Hobie on the couch. He smiled a crooked half smile at the endearing scene of his two favorite guys.

 _Contacts-_ he scrolled through every name (which, admittedly, there weren’t that many- the usual suspects plus a few regular clients from the shop) but nothing stood out as a new or unusual name. The name Boris did not make an appearance.

Out of desperation, _Instagram_ was next. He rarely used the app, mostly to look at what other furniture restoration shops were posting, advertise their own stock and occasionally post photos of Popper (those always got the most likes). He scrolled through his feed, went through his followers, scanned the list of people he followed and looked for any new messages. Nothing.

Suddenly he was frustrated with his lack of desire to document every moment of his life. Why couldn’t he be normal about one single thing? He was like an old man trapped in a 26 year old’s body and it was going to make him lose out on possibly reconnecting with the love of his life. Did he ever catch Boris’ last name? Could he look him up? But he hadn’t. All he knew was his first name and he was somehow connected to Jerome.

Jerome! That was it. As much as it disgusted him to think about it, about talking to the man who had fucked Boris on a bathroom vanity, if this was the only way to contact him, then that’s what he had to do. The connection he felt, he knew in his heart, wasn’t something to throw away. It had been a once in a lifetime spark that left him breathless.

Theo sat up, staring at the name in his phone. His stomach did a flip as he hit the call button.

The phone didn’t ring twice before a cheerful, yet sly voice came through, “Decker! I was wondering when you’d give me a ring.”

Startled that Jerome knew it was him and that he’d been expecting the call, he responded taken aback, “You were? How did you know it was me?”

A dry laugh rang back, “Oh, Theo. It’s my business to know who my clients are when they call.” He laughed again and Theo frowned, forehead creasing with tension. “Speaking of which- you owe me $500.”

All mirth was gone and an uncomfortable silence hung between them before Theo could say, “The fuck? I haven’t bought from you in years- I—“

“Last night,” he spoke sharply, “Or do you not remember? I believe you had a very pleasant evening with my best guy. He easily could have earned me $2500-$5000 but instead you occupied his whole night. Now, Theo, we’re old friends so I won’t charge you the full amount, but I think $500 is fair.” His voice full of venom and something uglier, something that made Theo’s stomach turn.

Slowly and softly he said, “what…”

This time Jerome was practically howling with laughter, “Wait— you didn’t think. Oh you did! You thought Pavlikovsky actually liked you? He is very good, I’ll give him that.”

Silence. Theo didn’t know what to say.

“Theo, he’s a— we’ll say male escort. You had him for the whole evening and now you owe me what I’m due. Do you understand now, Decker?

“No it wasn’t… he wasn’t…” Theo was at a complete loss. That couldn’t be it. There was something there- he felt it and he knew Boris had felt it too. The way he leaned into Theo’s touch, his eyes that could really _see_ Theo, the careful way he had caressed Theo as they learned each others bodies.

“He is and he doesn’t. If you’re not going to pay me, then we’re done here, Decker.” Theo hadn’t gotten what he called for, he couldn’t let the the line go dead.

“No yeah, okay. I’ll pay you. You have Venmo?” With shaking fingers Theo put the phone on speaker and fumbled around looking for the app.

“Venmo? Cash, Decker! Cash. Meet me at the old corner at 3pm.”

Shit. “Cash? 3pm. Okay. If I pay you, will you give me Boris’ phone number at least?”

The laughter on the other end was getting annoying. “Oh god, you really think you had something special? Fuck.” He paused as his laugh died down. “Sure, fine. $600 and I’ll give you his number. Cash!” And with that Jerome hung up the phone.

He couldn’t imagine it, Boris- a prostitute. But then, as he thought about it, a lot of things from that night suddenly made sense. Disappearing for long periods of time, men giving him strange looks, everyone at the club seeming to know who he was. His head fell in his hands. How could he have been so blind? And how the fuck was he going to come up with $600 cash? The shop was barely staying afloat as it was. Was it even worth it at this point? Was any of it even real? It had felt so real…

The demure but well-crafted watch on his wrist said 2:03pm. Throwing on normal clothes, making a pit stop in the bathroom to puke, then brush his teeth, he dashed down the stairs to the shop. He could hear Hobie working below, cutting something with what sounded like the circular saw. _I’m sorry, Hobie_ he whispered under his breath as he quietly opened the cash register and counted out the bills. Three hundred twenty five. It wasn’t enough. He’d have to pull money out of his bank account. The nearest ATM was at the corner store, to which he dashed like a mad man, forgetting his coat, immediately realizing this as the snow came down on his shoulders, hitting his face repeatedly with flakes as big as the lenses of his glasses. Nearly slipping on the slick ground outside the corner store left Theo breathless as he ducked inside. An old woman nearing 90, bundled in what must have been every coat she owned, stood in front of the ATM. Adjusting her glasses she peered at the numbers and the instructions the machine gave her after inserting her card. Letting out a deep sigh, Theo looked at his watch again. 2:20pm. It would take a cab at least 20 minutes to get to the spot where he used to meet Jerome. He tapped his foot impatiently and readjusted his own glasses.

“Um, Miss, do you need help at all?” He meant to sound calm and helpful, but it all came out very exasperated.

Slowly she turned her head towards Theo and he thought he might lose it right there. With ancient, wrinkled hands she pulled her glasses down and peered at him. “Pardon me, young man, I don’t need your help. Didn’t your mother teach you not to be so rude?” As she turned away she muttered _patience is a virtue_ under her breath and went back to leisurely operating the machine. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips before he practically ran back out into the snow. Two blocks down was a branch of his credit union and they had an ATM in their lobby. He ran.

The door was locked. It was Sunday. His head fell against the glass where he banged it twice. None of this was life or death, but it nearly felt like it. If he missed Jerome, he knew, the older man would leave and that would be it. He wasn’t a man of second chances, he had never been- not even when money was involved. Heart speeding up, feeling like it was going to beat right out of his chest, a life Theo had never known flashed before his eyes. It was the strangest thing, that he could see a whole life with this stranger he hadn’t known even 12 hours earlier. A face he could see himself waking up next to, a voice he would’t mind hearing day in and day out.

He had always balked at how fast people fell in love in movies and tv shows. It was ridiculous and unrealistic. But here he was, feeling like he had known this man his entire life, as though they had spent lifetimes meeting over and over and their souls somehow remembered. He had to get to Jerome so he could get to Boris to confirm whatever it was that he was feeling was real. “Fuck.” He banged a fist on the glass.

As the unmistakeable crunch of footsteps in the snow came to a stop beside him, he turned his head. “Hey, could you maybe move? I’m trying to get to the ATM.”

Theo looked puzzled as he stepped aside. A man with a grey knit hat and matching knitted scarf stood holding up his debit card, sliding it into a slot next to the door. A buzz sounded, then a beep and the door opened. Theo’s eyes lit up and he followed behind the other man who has clearly remembered it was snowing before leaving his house. Theo couldn’t imagine what he must have looked like to every other New Yorker on the street. A lunatic at best. Thankfully there were two ATMs and Theo could do what he needed to do.

Moments later he was pushing through the door back out into the cold and flailing his arms about to signal a taxi. Three drove by him, occupied, before the fourth one stopped, splashing muddy, slushy snow over his legs. It didn’t even phase him. He jumped in the back of the cab, gave the address and sat on the edge of his seat looking out the window impatiently. His watch read 2:45pm.

New York taxis knew their way around the city. Driving a taxi in the city was a true art form and Theo had been lucky enough to get in the right cab. At 3:03pm he pulled up to the corner. “You take card?”

The driver nodded, but as Theo felt around his pockets all he found was the wad of cash and his phone. “Shit.” He had forgotten his wallet.

“How much?”

“Thirty.”

“Shit.” Theo handed him thirty dollars, got out of the cab and hoped like hell Jerome would be lenient.

Wrapped in a large, expensive looking coat trimmed with fur stood Jerome. Theo, despite not being dressed for the weather, only wearing a light button down and tweed trousers- the most convenient outfit laying around his room- he was sweating from the stress of his journey.

“Wow. You’re a mess.”

Theo adjusted his glasses and rolled his eyes, “Boris’ number?”

“Cash first, Decker.”

He looked at the snow on the ground, already turning brown with the grime of the city. “Okay look— I forgot my wallet, and I had to pay the cab- I have $570. Please. Jerome.” Theo lifted his eyes to meet the steely blue eyes before him. He knew he sounded desperate, he hated it, but to be honest, he was.

Jerome said nothing but held out his hand, palm up. Hesitantly Theo handed over the cash. He watched as Jerome counted every dollar. “Come with me,” he said as he began walking away.

“Hey, what about our deal?” Theo trotted behind him, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep warm. “Are you going to give me his number or not?”

He stopped abruptly, Theo running into his back. Jerome turned around, putting a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Listen, I’m not an idiot. I can’t give you his number. That’s bad business.” He turned and kept walking.

“The fuck! You said—“

“I know what I said, Decker. Shut the fuck up and follow me or leave.”

He grunted but did as he was told, following behind until the reached a red door in an old brick building. As Jerome opened the door smoke filled Theo’s lungs and he coughed. “Come on.” He shoved Theo inside the dark building.

Dim lights illuminated a very sketchy looking bar. It was a warm light, though sparse. He saw men and women seated all around, talking, drinking, smoking. That’s when he saw him. Sitting with two other men smoking was Boris at a low table up against a wall. Theo made to approach him before a rough hand on his bicep stopped him in his tracks. He turned to see stern, almost angry eyes staring back at him. “15 minutes- that’s it- or I’ll charge you another $500.” Theo glared and yanked his arm back.

“Fuck you.”

“You can’t afford me, Decker.” He walked away, taking a glass of beer from a woman that looked far too thin to be healthy.

“Boris—“ his name came out breathy and desperate from Theo’s throat. The young Ukrainian looked up at him, bright eyes suddenly concerned or sad or both. The two others at the table looked to Boris who nodded in a manner that suggested they leave, to which they both did.

“Potter, why have you come here?” He clapped his palm against the table inviting Theo to sit, to which he did.

And there were the eyes he’d been trying to conjure up in his mind every waking second since he’d last seen them. He reached for Boris’ hand that still lay on the table, but he pulled it back from Theo’s grasp. Boris tilted his head down, eyes peering up straight through Theo looking for an answer.

All of a sudden it all seemed silly. Why _did_ he come here? Clearly he was crazy thinking he was in love with a prostitute. But when he looked at Boris, really looked at him, he knew he wasn’t crazy. “Boris—“

“This was bad idea. You should go.” Boris nodded toward the door, leaned back in his seat and took a drag of the cigarette he had been smoking before Theo sat down. His eyes gazed beyond Theo. The muscles of his face looked tense and his body language stiff.

Theo wasn’t having it. He moved as close to Boris as he could with the table between them, forearms braced against the cold metal, hands in tight fists. “I can’t. I can’t just leave. Last night- I don’t know what last night was but I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never felt anything like that,” he paused, swallowed and touched his glasses, “for anyone before. You have—“

“Is my job, Potter, you understand, yes?” There was a pain behind his eyes and Theo watched them dart somewhere behind him, then down to the floor. “Make men feel good for the night, get paid, everybody is happy.” He took another drag and tapped out the ash in a brassy ashtray.

“No. Well, yes. I understand that. But you can’t tell me that—“

“It wasn’t, Theo.” Dark eyes met his, serious and cold. It jolted Theo off the table. His lips turned down, forehead creasing. He would be 100 years old by the time this whole ordeal was over. The air hung heavy around the pair seated in wooden chairs at a cold metal table up against a deep green wall with a dim, warm light just barely caressing the peaks and valleys of their profiles. Neither spoke, and Theo stared. Boris’ black curls fell across his forehead and Theo longed to run his fingers through them again.

He wasn’t crazy. He couldn’t be crazy. Shoving his chair back, he stood up. Boris languidly turned his head, eyes once again meeting Theo’s. “Potter—“

But this time Theo interrupted. In one quick motion, he leaned over the table, hands finding Boris’ cheeks and kissed him deep. He swore he felt Boris kiss back just before Boris put his hands on Theo’s shoulders, pushing him back. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth before saying, “You cannot do this, not here.” Again, his dark eyes darted over Theo’s shoulder. He turned around to see Jerome, looking displeased, watching and pointing to the time on his phone.

“I have to see you again. Please, Boris.” Theo found himself frustrated at the amount of begging he was doing today.

His soft lips fell open, eyes looking over to Jerome, before closing them again. He slipped the cigarette between his lips, sucked in deep and blew a cloud of smoke all around Theo’s face, still leaning in close to his. “Theodore Decker, yes? I will find you. Go now,” Boris whispered. Theo coughed as the smoke dispersed and when he could see clearly, Boris had leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, cigarette hanging from his mouth, already talking to someone else.

Work was unbearably long the next day and the guilt of having stolen from Hobie was eating him alive. He would have to find a way to pay back his generous guardian. This was, however, a piece of his current anxiety, but certainly not at the forefront of his mind. What had Boris meant by _I will find you?_ Theo sat behind the desk, shop empty as ever, tugging at his hair and dropping his forehead onto the hard wood in front of him. _Fuck._

Theo had hardly slept the night before and found himself, between practically pulling out his hair, dozing off at the desk. He’d only wake up when the bell over the door rang, signaling a customer, or when Hobie called upon him for help in the workshop. It was safe to say he was an absolute fucking disaster.

In an attempt to avoid falling asleep, yet again, he picked up a duster and began dusting off the treasures around the shop. This was how he frequently spent his time as the shop was nearly always empty. Most of their big sales began online and translated into in person appointments. There was really no need for the shop to have hours, but Hobie insisted, something about the old ways of doing business face to face. Needless to say, the pieces, original and changeling, rarely needed the dusting that Theo frequently gave them.

He had stopped to admire a particularly handsome marble statue in a 1800’s curio cabinet when the bell chimed.

“Welcome to Hobart &—“ as he looked up he forgot what he was going to say. Bundled in a black wool coat stood Boris looking flushed and gorgeous with the cold reddening his nose and cheeks.

“Hello, Potter.”

Theo tried to say anything, but only succeeded in standing, mouth agape. “Nice shop. Never understood appeal of old things.” He whipped out a gold lighter, clearly worn and refilled every time it ran dry, and lit a cigarette. Nervously, Theo adjusted his glasses, cautiously moving towards Boris.

“Should probably smoke that outside, the old things and all…” he could barely think. Boris had found him. He was standing in front of Theo looking far more relaxed than he had the day before, relaxed and all too alluring.

“Ah, maybe not the best idea to go outside. You have somewhere else to go? Talk in private?” He blew smoke off to the side away from Theo, who found he couldn’t even be as bothered as he normally would be. Everything about Boris and how he effected Theo drove him crazy. There had never been a person in his whole life that made him feel this way.

“Yeah, sure. One sec.” He reached behind Boris, feeling the heat from his body being so close, and flipped the sign to ‘closed’ and locked the door. “This way.” He moved, careful not to touch the man who was both disheveled and statuesque.

  
Upstairs Theo tried to remember how to be normal. “Would you like some tea?” The water sounded tinny as it hit the bottom of the metal kettle. He tried to focus on the sound to clear his mind. Keeping busy on a specific task helped take his mind away from the overwhelming scent of Boris’ cologne mixed with smoke and what that did to his insides. Boris didn’t respond, so Theo turned to ask again, putting the kettle down on the stove. “Boris, would you—“ Boris threw his cigarette in the sink, slipped a hand around the back of Theo’s neck and pulled their lips together in a rough kiss. Theo immediately opened his mouth, licking his plump, red bottom lip, sucking it into his own mouth, his whole body melting into Boris’. Desperately Theo’s hands grabbed at the collar of his black button up, already half undone, dragging the slightly shorter man up more forcefully against him. Long nimble fingers drug along the inside of the waistband of Theo’s slacks sending shivers up his spine and his hips into Boris’. A sharp gasp escaped Theo’s throat as Boris kissed the soft spot under his jaw.

Pulling back suddenly, just enough to speak, Theo had to ask, “This- are you,” he didn’t know how to ask and Boris smirked waiting for the question he knew was coming. “Is this by the hour—or?”

“Ha! Buy one get another free,” he laughed kissing Theo’s jaw as he made to shove the suit jacket off his shoulders.

It took every ounce of self control he had to stop Boris from going further. “Ha ha, very funny- I’m serious though. Yesterday Jerome demands money for what I thought was a genuine connection, then you seem completely disinterested, and now you’re here trying to take off my clothes.” Swallowing all his fear and apprehension he continued, “Boris, I like you. Too much, clearly.”

Boris leaned back against the counter arms crossed loosely across his chest just as the kettle began to whistle. “Shit!” Theo spun around, turned off the stove and removed the kettle. The shrill scream of the kettle had pierced the moment, sucked the air right out of the room and left the two men standing, not a word between them.

Pushing his glasses up his nose he turned to Boris.

“Is complicated, Theo,” a certain kind of agony colored the tone of his words.

He instinctively moved closer longing for the warmth of Boris’ body. “Then help me understand.”

The curly haired man looked to the ground before his eyes turned up, out the window that sat above the sink. “I am here, not for anyone but for me— and for you. Is no charge, Jay does not know I have come.”

Theo must have looked confused as Boris clarified Jay was what he called Jerome. “Why do you work for him? Why do you live this life, Boris? Do you enjoy it?”

He smiled wryly as he responded, “Sometimes can be quite enjoyable, but is not why I stay. There is history. I was young. Is complicated, like I said.”

Theo turned around again, pouring two cups of tea before sitting down at the small kitchen table and inviting Boris to sit with him. “Tell me everything.”


End file.
